


A Time of Darkness

by sksdwrld



Series: What Sorcery is This? [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Actual plot, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Omega Verse, zomg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1912830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur must lead the knights on a mission. Merlin has a bad feeling, but is dismissed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitty_fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/gifts).



The sunlight filtered through the trees, giving rise to a beautiful morning, but Arthur was unable to appreciate it. Merlin had followed him out of the castle despite Arthur's express wishes, and was now clinging to Arthur's hand, preventing him from mounting his horse.

"Merlin," he sighed. "I'm not any happier about it than you are but somethings just cannot be helped. I have a duty to my people..."

Merlin tried to blink back tears and failed. Two big drops fell from his right eye and were chased with an even larger one from the left. "I'm your people, too, Arthur. I don't want to be without you. Take me with you!"

Sighing, Arthur caressed Merlin's face and wiped the tears away with his thumb. "Any other time, I would, Merlin. But your condition...it will be a difficult ride for those of us who aren't carrying pups. I am only thinking of you, and the babes...I'm sorry, I have to say no. But Gwen will be there to keep you company, and Morgana.

Merlin looked stricken and leaned against Arthur, lamenting much more quietly, "But what am I to do about...I already miss you. I _need_ you. Arthur, you can't just leave me like this, I'll _die_!"

Arthur chuckled dryly and swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. "Missing your shag-a-day certainly isn't going to kill you, Merlin. And I suppose you'll do what you did before you met me- use your hand..." he ducked, kissing both of Merlin's cheeks and then his mouth. "Now get inside before you _do_ catch your death -of cold! You're only in a sleeping robe, idiot."

Merlin protested again. "But Arthur, I've got a bad feeling ab-"

"My men are waiting for me. I'm supposed to be their leader, Merlin. Don't make this harder on me than it already is. I said go."

Choking back a sob, Merlin shoved something into Arthur's hand and turned, fleeing back up the steps of the castle and disappearing inside.

Despite being gone, Merlin's scent was as strong as if he were still standing there. Arthur sighed heavily and looked down into his hand. It was a kerchief and it was so heavily perfumed with Merlin's heady smell that it did make Arthur wonder the means of which it had been obtained. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. He had a party of knights to lead through Darkling Forest.

Tucking it away, he turned to mount his horse and then sauntered over to where his men were waiting for him. Clearing his throat, he gruffly apologized. "Sorry for the delay."

Leon sent him a knowing smile. "Hormones get the best of Omegas, Sire."

"Yes, well..." Merlin's hormones served their purposes, too. Arthur urged his horse forward. "Tally ho."


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur lay on the embankment, watching the sun crash into the sea. The water and the sky alike were awash with mirrored bloody streaks, some of which were red as the cloak he wore.

The journey through Darkling Forest had taken longer than he'd anticipated: they'd had to barter with the druids for safe passage and it put them behind. Then, they'd lost not one but two horses to the mire of the swamp. It had taken them nearly ten days to reach the sea, and three more to deliver news to and collect tributes from the townsfolk on this farthest reaching township of Camelot.

He'd told Merlin that he would return in two weeks time, but that had nearly already come to pass, and he expected it would take just as long to return. Arthur frowned, knowing that Merlin would be eagerly awaiting his return. How long would it be before he was beside himself with worry? Not that Arthur was happy about the situation either. He hated to leave his mate for so long, and especially since he was going to miss out on an entire months worth of Merlin's pregnancy.

Alone, he pantomimed his hands, amusing himself by guessing how round Merlin would be when he returned. Would Merlin's swell have turned to a bulge, or perhaps even a rounded belly? It was anyone's guess.

After awhile, he reached toward his belt and withdrew a tattered scrap of fabric that had once been Merlin's spare neckerchief. Bringing it to his face, he inhaled deeply. It still held the faint scent of Merlin, like musky apples, if there was such a thing and Arthur wasn't sure if it was a blessing that the scent was no longer strong enough that it incited him to pleasure himself, or if it was the beginning of a downward spiral of sadness. He only hoped that traces of it would linger, lasting him until he returned from this trip, not so perilous as it was tedious.

Just after the men had cooked their evening meal over the camp fire, the fine mist that had been dampening them on an off throughout the afternoon turned into a drizzle. It was the last thing that Arthur needed and he swore as he kicked over a stack of sticks that they had gathered to keep the fire going throughout the night. They would soon be useless anyhow.

"Arthur..." Lancelot reminded him as he drew him toward the canopy of trees that the other knights had assembled beneath. "The best thing once can do when it's raining is to let it rain."

The night was a long, late one and passed by slowly for all of them. Despite being soaked come morning, each of them were eager to take to the road. They shared a meager breakfast of dried fruits and meats from their store before packing up their camp and drying the horses as best they could. No one rode and instead, forming a grim line, they led the gentle beasts through the forest in single file. All tired and missing their home, it became a morning of quiet revelation. But by the afternoon, the sun had peeked through enough to lift their spirits and they stopped in a clearing to warm themselves and the horses. A few animals had been flushed from the underbrush during their travels, and Elyan and Gwaine were making their best attempts at firebuilding while Leon skinned and skewered the meat.

Days passed with more of the same. The clouds seemed to follow them closely, never passing the group by, never dispersing or abating. In fact, the weather grew so badly at one point that they spent two whole days holed up in a taven to give their animals a rest and the chance to dry.

Arthur grew more short tempered and miserable by the day., and though he tried not to take it out on his men, it was clear that all of their patience were growing thin. Time pressed on and the trip became less of an adventure and more of an ill-desired duty.

At night, Arthur dreamt of Merlin and those plush, pink lips of his: smiling, pouting, stretched in laughter, wet and plump, swollen from use...and so the list went on. He missed not only the carnality of their relations, but Merlin's jovial spirit.

They were approximately three days out from Camelot the night that Merlin came to him in a dream, not playful or sad as he'd previously been, but scared. It seemed that Arthur had no sooner shut his eyes than he was dreaming. Merlin approached him from a dark corner. His eyes were wide and wet. When Arthur reached for him, shadows stretched toward Merlin, curling around his wrists and torso. Merlin cried out soundlessly as he was drawn back, away from Arthur.

Arthur tried to pursue him but it was like wading through boiled sugar. Merlin waa only sucked farther away from him into the darkness, his face twisted in agony, chest and stomach heaving.

"Merlin! Merrrrrlinnnnn!" Arthur's eyes snapped open and he sat up, instantaneously wide awake. He scrambled to his feet, full of ill-regard for the knights that surrounded him. In a helpless panic, he whirled, heart pounding in his chest even as his ribs constricted, squeezing him, choking off his breath.

"Arthur!" Leon was the first to gather his wits about him and propped himself up on his elbows. "Sire, what is it?"

Arthur wiped his face and spun on his heel. "Merlin...there's something wrong with Merlin."

"How do you know?"

"...Just now...I....I...he came to me."

"You dreamt it?" Leon said softly as he sat up. Arthur could only nod. It sounded ridiculous to his own ears and he couldn't say it aloud.

"It was a nightmare, Sire, nothing more." Climbing to his feet, Leon put his arms around Arthur's shoulders and steered him toward a nearby log. Together, they sat. "Think about it. Merlin is safe within the castle walls. It would take an army to get past the guards. And something that large? They would have seen it coming, sent a runner for us. And we would have met with him by now."

Swallowing, Arthur nodded slowly. It all seemed very logical.

"We'll be home in a couple days, Arthur, and you'll see that Merlin is just fine. In no time, you'll be shagging him loud enough for the kingdom to hear, eh?" Winking, Leon elbowed him.

Arthur forced a smile onto his face. He desperately wanted that to be true, but the pit in his stomach told him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.Red  
> 2.Apples  
> 3\. watching the sun set  
> 4\. Looking out over the sea  
> 5\. bloody  
> 6\. Worried  
> 7\. "The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow  
> 8\. Lips  
> 9.late night  
> 10\. wide awake


	3. Chapter 3

It was mid morning on the second day and the rain was the worst it had ever been but Arthur urged the knights onward, despite their protests. Everyone was tired and browbeaten by the weather but Arthur simply couldn't wait any more. In fact, he was already preparing to leave them behind and forge the rest of the way alone when they were intercepted by a young man on a frothing horse.

"Sire, Sire!" The boy yanked on the reigns and slid from the beast before it could gather it's feet beneath itself to stop. "Sire, it's Merlin!"

Arthur crossed the distance between them in mere seconds and grabbed the messenger by his leather jerkin, half strangling him when he lifted the boy clear off his feet. Lance was on them in a moment, peeling Arthur's fingers away from the soaked leather and pushing the runner back and out of reach while the other knights scrambled to recover the horse before it cantered away. 

Lance waved his hand impatiently. "The message, lad!"

Wheezing, the young man shook his head then coughed to clear his throat. "Forgive me, My lord. Please, I came as quickly as I could. It's Merlin. He's gone--"

"Gone?!" Arthur roared and Lance strengthened his stand as he held his palm up to Arthur.

"Go on."

"He's gone missing. No one can find him." The squire flinched and ducked as though anticipating being struck for the news he'd delivered.

"Merlin!" Arthur raged. "That daft idiot. He's gone wandering no doubt, because we're later than we anticipated in returning. How far could he have gotten? How hard is it to track down an Omega dropping scent all over the place? Are you fools? Didn't anyone release the hounds?"

"W-we did, Sire..." the young man said, bowing his head as he took a knee. "Forgive me. We looked. All of us at the Castle looked. Are still looking, no doubt. but the dogs...they went as far as the meadow at the edge of the moor, and then lost the scent. Every one of them. It's like he disappeared, clean off the land..."

"When?" Arthur demanded, though in his heart of hearts, he knew.

"Nigh on two nights ago, My Lord. I'm sorry, we didn't miss him until the morning meal."

Arthur swore as he stormed toward his horse, unsheathing his sword in a fit of rage. He didn't have time for this foolishness.

"Sorcery, My Lord!" the messenger cried. "The King...he says it must be sorcery."

Of course Uther would say that. The old man thought everything was sorcery and normally the very word made Arthur want to roll his eyes and groan. But this time, a cold chill chased the blood from his veins and the image that Arthur had seen in his dream came rushing back. A helpless Merlin caught up in tendrils of darkness, dragging him into a bleak land. It wasn't just a metaphor for trouble, it was a picture of the whole bloody thing.

"Round the others," Arthur ordered Lance with a hoarse voice and an imperial wave after he shoved his sword back into the scabbard. "Catch up. I'm going on ahead."

"Your Highness..." Lance implored, reaching out for him. "Please, you don't know what you're up against. Wait for the men to rally--"

Arthur scowled and kicking his horse in the flank, it reared up with a screech of protest. "Hyah!" he spurred the horse into action and they dashed past Lance so closely that he was knocked to his arse in the mud.

"Arthur!" Lance called, struggling to his feet. "Arthur, wait!"

But there was no stopping Arthur now. He would be home before nightfall, come hell or high water. Little did he know it would be a little of both.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin had known there was something wrong the morning that Arthur prepared to ride into Darkling Woods and everyone had laughed at him: The silly, hormonal, Omega. Well, he'd be willing to bet that they weren't laughing now... No, Merlin imagined them scurrying around, searching.for him in every nook and cranny in the castle, and perhaps even the grounds that lay beyond. Not that they'd find him. 

The sizzle of magic was palpable in the air. Merlin had felt it increasingly as the days Arthur was gone bled into weeks. Gwen and Morgana had tried to reassure him that Arthur was alright, that these missions often took lon her than projected, especially when the weather was bad. And the dark cloud in the distance seemed to hover, undeterred by the wind that blew the other clouds past. Merlin spent hours at the window, fraught with worry until Gwen went in search of Gaius and together they confined him to the bed. It was in the best interest of the pups, they said. Two, perhaps even three in his belly, growing by the minute it seemed. Rolling about and stretching and shoving him from the inside.

At first, it was rather nice to lay about in his marital bed, as pampered and catered to as Arthur himself. But by the day, the boredom stretched into long hours. He wasn't content to be read to or talked at or any of the other royal luxuries. And worse, he'd been forbidden from going to the kitchen or stables.

Merlin needed to move, needed with wind on his cheeks, the scent of the mountains in his nostrils. The window seemed beckon to him. Merlin. Merlin!

In the wee hours of the morning, he caved. After shoving back the blankets and furs, Merlin found himself at the window, gazing off into the bleakness of the night. A few torches spotted the settlements, but beyond that, there was only the night; the deepest, blackest, velvet cloak and Merlin wanted to be enrobed in it. He reached out as though he could touch it and felt the air part around his fingers. It was syrupy and clung to his skin, and briefly, he wondered if he was dreaming.

A gentle breeze tickled Merlin's nose and the fringed tapestries that he held back with one hand. There was an undercurrent on the wind and it summoned him the way children called one another on adventures; with tinkling windchimes, laughter, and lutes in the distance.

...Come with us...

At first, Merlin laughed aloud and shook his head. He was going daft from being shut in for too long. But after a time, the air crackled as the direction of the wind changed and now it seemed to tug at him. 

Come. Come now. Emrys...

With a sudden shudder, Merlin tried to pull away from the window. There was true magic at play here and he was the target. Merlin fought their summons even as the room around him seemed to haze.

In the distant rolling hills, three pyres flared to life at once and the wind took on an urgent pitch, the voices overlapping.

Emrys...Emrys...Emrys...Emrys!

His limbs slowed, bogged down, and then reversed direction, propelling him back toward the window where his fingers dug in for purchase and his right leg lifted up toward the stones. But they were several levels up and the fall would surely kill him!

His heart was racing and blood rushing coldly through his veins. Merlin's fight was futile and he found himself sitting on the ledge and looking down at the hayed cobblestone below. His vision blurred and melted everything together in a wash of muted color.

Emrys, Emrys, Emrys, Emrys

Gathering all of his muster, Merlin lashed out one last time, not against the wind, but against the night itself. Arthur!

Then, he was gone into the darkness. No wind on his face, no pain of impact, No scream of agony. Nothing.


End file.
